The Greatest Treasure
by Celestia0909
Summary: Louis falls in love with an unlikely person who isn't all she seems to be... ""My bounty is as boundless as the sea, My love as deep; the more I give to thee, The more I have, for both are infinite."


**The Greatest Treasure**

[A/N at the end]

 _Thank you to Emy and Em ( Emiliya-Wolfe & Emmeebee) for beta-ing and helping me cut it down to size! _

_Pls check out their work, they're insanely talented and brilliant!_

-x-

* * *

Louis scrunched the scrap of parchment he'd found in his pocket and frowned as he threw it off the edge of the tower. He should be used to receiving such insults; but he wasn't. Becoming apathetic to the notes would just be admitting that his bullies were right, that he deserved their slurs.

His father told him to never give in to his aggressors, to stand up for himself and be strong. But Louis wasn't his father; no matter how hard he tried to be. Each scathing remark that came from his bullies was a stab at his already fragile ego. It wasn't _his_ fault that he was part-Veela. It was just the way he was. And despite the torment he received from others, he was _proud_ of his heritage.

But being proud of your heritage didn't make it any easier to suffer the slings and arrows of hurtful words.

Louis wiped a tear away and sniffled as he sat down the ground, legs hanging over the edge of the Astronomy Tower. This was the only place that he could be himself, and _be_ by himself and away from his family. He loved them, but they could never understand the emotional turmoil inside him. Nobody could — unless there happened to be another part-Veela male in the world.

A flash of silver caught his attention and Louis turned away from the burning horizon to try and find the source. A wisp of mist, like hair whipping in the breeze, fluttered around the corner and the tower suddenly became darker.

-x-

Louis checked his watch impatiently as the girl talked animatedly about her plans for the Christmas break.

"Listen, Adelaide, I'm running a bit late for something," Louis interrupted as she started to talk about her wombat. She looked affronted before schooling her features into an expression of polite understanding. "Can we talk about this later?"

Her thick eyebrows knit together before she glanced at the basket in his hand and smiled forcefully. "No worries. I'll see you 'round, Lou."

Louis nodded, grimacing internally at the nickname, before he bounded up the stairs toward the Astronomy Tower. He checked his watch again as he waited for the staircase to stop moving and groaned at how late he was; he might as well not show up at all.

Taking a moment to catch his breath, Louis stopped and held onto the banister for support. He peeked through the cheesecloth hiding the contents of his picnic basket and sighed; thankfully, nothing had spilt or broken in his haste. With two more breaths and a pep talk, Louis covered the basket back up and began ascending the staircase.

Despite the frequency of his visits to the tower, the beauty of the space would never cease to amaze him. The large brass spiral sculpture atop the staircase swung delicately as the breeze filtered through the circular open walls on each side of the tower. Every direction he looked gave him a different view of the castle, the grounds, and the Scottish highlands beyond. Dusk was his favourite part of the day and Louis felt his heartbeat slow as he let himself become immersed in the glittering golds and pinks of the setting sun.

His serenity didn't last long and Louis grunted uncomfortably as a cool sensation flew through his chest, choking and freezing him momentarily.

"Would an apology suffice?" Louis asked sheepishly, stepping towards the blue ball of light near the edge of the tower. He set down his basket and sat next to his companion, letting his feet hang over the edge.

"I suppose so."

"Well then, I'm sorry for being late," Louis said as he laid out the bowls and plates of food that the House Elves had prepared for him. "I _would_ say that it won't happen again, but that'd be a lie."

The woman shrugged and sat down, her hands brushing her skirt. Louis glanced at the silvery streaks of blood at the hem of her dress, and decided against asking about it. The last time he had, she had disappeared in a fit of rage.

"Why were you late?" she asked, watching as he smeared cream and jam onto a scone.

"Well, do you remember that girl, Adelaide, that I told you about last time?" She nodded. "She started asking about my plans for the holidays. I don't know _why_ she keeps trying to talk to me."

The woman scoffed and shook her head, her long hair catching the breeze and fluttering against her shoulders as she looked at him piercingly.

"Do you really _not_ know why she wants to talk to you so much?" Louis shook his head as he chewed on his mouthful. He sloppily washed it down with Butterbeer and flinched at the disgust on his companion's face. "You _mustn't_ be as perceptive as you seem, then…"

Louis opened his mouth to question her but shrugged instead, helping himself to a strawberry as a breeze whistled through the tower. He pulled his scarf tighter around his neck and cursed himself for not thinking to bring his toque; it was freezing!

He watched as the sun gradually descended in the sky, while they updated one another on their lives. He loved listening to what she got up to every week; she always had the most curious stories and Louis wondered what it would be like to be her. He noticed how stiff and withdrawn she became when he spoke about his family, so he barely ever did anymore.

The emptier his bottle of Butterbeer became, the deeper their topics grew.

He loved their time together. There was nobody else in the world who understood what it felt like to be him; to be within and yet without. She was his best friend, the person whom he trusted most that wasn't his family. There were things he told her that he had never them. They wouldn't understand.

"You have to go soon," she said, eyes downcast as her hair fell limp against her back. Louis averted his gaze and felt the all-too-familiar feeling of loss. He'd see her next week, of course, but he hated waiting so long. "Why don't you read me the poem you brought?"

Louis pulled out his leather journal from the basket, blowing wayward bits of grass away as he flipped towards the page he'd dog-eared.

He glanced up every few verses as he read Ella Wheeler Wilcox's poem. The more he read, the more melancholy her face became.

 _Curious_ , he wondered, before clearing his throat and reading the final verse:

" _Love does not grow on every tree,_

 _Nor true hearts yearly bloom._

 _Alas for those who only see_

 _This cut across a tomb!_

 _But, soon or late, the fact grows plain_

 _To all through sorrow's test:_

 _The only folks who give us pain_

 _Are those we love the best._ "

A few minutes of silence transpired between them, blanketing them in a bubble where time stood still as snow began to fall outside the tower. Louis turned his head away from the grounds and watched the flurry of emotions flit across the Grey Lady's face. He had never seen anyone so broken and sorrowful.

He hadn't meant to dredge up bitter memories; he had only meant to bring her joy by engaging in one of their favourite past times — reading to one another. Of course, if he was completely honest with himself, that wasn't the _only_ reason he had chosen this poem.

The Grey Lady had been shrouded in mystery since they'd met. Louis had asked the other ghosts about her, had asked for a proper name to call her by, but the closest he had gotten to revealing her true heritage had been an angry outburst from the Bloody Baron and the mention of a name: _Helena_.

It hadn't taken him long to come to his own conclusions, and this poem was supposed to act as a catalyst to talking about her and her family.

Louis reached out to lay a hand on her shoulder but drew back at the realisation that his hand would only go through her.

"Why won't you tell me who you really are?" Louis asked. It was such a childish question, but it was one that had plagued him since they'd met. The Grey Lady never replied. "I know you're Helena Ravencl—"

Louis was interrupted as his companion shot up, her hair and dress billowing eerily as the wind ushered flurries of snow into the tower, making him shiver. Although, perhaps it wasn't _just_ the snow that made him shiver; part of it was fear at his companion's sudden change in demeanour.

" _Don't call me that again_!" she said in a dangerously low voice, her enraged face contorting into something horrific. "I don't deserve the name. I don't deserve the name." She repeated the mantra over and over again, her head shaking as she covered her face with her hands and wept. The silvery glow that always seemed to emanate from her changed to a faint blue.

Before Louis could say anything else, she disappeared through the floor, leaving him alone in the dark tower, his heart falling from his chest and settling deep into his stomach.

 _What have I done?_ he thought in anguish at the realisation that his curiosity may have just cost him one of the people he loved most.

-x-

"Have _you_ ever loved anyone?" Louis asked as he peeked at her from the corner of his eye. Helena fiddled with the hem of her sleeve before gazing out at the Black Lake below. A large tentacle disturbed the surface of the glassy lake before retreating.

"Love is fickle," she replied, her voice hard.

The truth was that she _had_ loved before. First a man who had betrayed her. And then another, whose name was Tom. He had dark eyes, darker hair, and a mind that rivalled her own. He was both witty and wise; charming and debonair; and the things they spoke of were inconceivable to any normal person.

Before Helena died, she had dreamt about the sort of man that she might one day marry. Even then, she'd had illusions of grandeur about whom the worthy suitor would be. And yet, despite her unfailing hope, no man could live up to her expectations. Until in death, she came across one… Tom.

Tom was an outsider just like her. He was kind, he had a sharp mind, he was gentle, and his soul called out to hers like no other. She wandered the castle, whispering his name and thinking of his smile. But perhaps the most attractive thing about him was that to him, she wasn't Helena Ravenclaw — the daughter of one of the most powerful witches in the world. To him, she was just Helena.

And against her better judgment, against the warnings of the Bloody Baron, she fell in love with the boy who dared to dream.

But like he had many an unaware victim, he deceived her.

Before she could realise what she had done, he had defiled the diadem, told her of his treachery, and had the gall to hide it where she was bound to spend the rest of her existence. From that day on, she was no longer Helena; she was the Grey Lady, and she carried the guilt and shame of her actions ever since.

Hindsight made the past clearer, but Helena should have noticed the signs. She should have noticed how his questions about Dark Magic grew darker. She should have noticed how there always seemed to be a glint of greed in his eyes. She should have noticed the darkness that lurked within Tom. She should have known that he was only ever interested in her because of who her mother was. It was always the case.

And yet, deep down, she knew she _had_ noticed; she had known Tom's true intentions — after all, she'd thought they were two halves of one soul. And it had been her desperate longing to be loved that had made her weak, fickle. Love had made her blind to his true intentions. The Bloody Baron's love for her had killed her. Love had made a fool of the daughter of Rowena Ravenclaw twice, and she vowed that she would never again allow a man to deceive her.

" _My bounty is as boundless as the sea,_

 _My love as deep; the more I give to thee,_

 _The more I have, for both are infinite._ "

Helena froze at Louis' words.

 _Could it be so?_

"You don't know what you're talking about," Helena said, her eyes like steel. She recognised the saying; it was Shakespeare. Louis loved Shakespeare. "What do you know of love?"

She had vowed never to be thwarted by a man, but this boy wasn't like any other man she had come across. He was strange. Helena had always thought herself a good judge of character in her later years, after Tom's deception. And Louis was as pure as people could come. He was kind, gentle, and wise beyond his years. He didn't covet glory, fame, or fortune — he knew what it was to possess all three because of his family, and he rejected it. Louis represented exactly the sort of person she would have hoped to marry before she had died, but it could never be so.

"I know enough to know that I love you," Louis said, his cheeks flush with youthful resolution. "Just as you are."

Helena scoffed, ignoring the hurt that flashed across Louis' face. "Others said the same, and they all lied. They all wanted something from my mother."

"I don't care about your mother; what does she have to do with anything?"

"Can you honestly look me in the eyes and tell me that this has nothing to do with my mother? This has nothing to do with getting something from me?" Helena asked slowly, imploring him to prove her wrong.

"Of course not! The only thing I want from you is your time and love." Louis paused, glancing at his hands and frowning before staring into her eyes. In the seconds that they looked at each other, he looked older than his years.

A searing heat emanated somewhere deep in Helena's chest at his words and she smiled at him as the warmth spread to the tips of her toes and fingers. For hundreds of years, all she had felt was cold; now, at his words, she felt warmth and a sense of peace for the first time in eons.

"Then time is what you shall have," Helena said as she watched a handful of owls set off into the night. "And my love too…"

-x-

Louis whistled to himself as he bounded up the staircase, two steps at a time. His heart felt light and he felt ecstatic at the idea that he'd be starting his life for real at the end of the year, outside of Hogwarts.

Another reason for his happiness, was that he had missed Helena over the summer and he'd finally see her again. He had contemplated sending letters, but given the fact that she was a ghost, he doubted that she would be able to send him a reply.

He had spent the entire summer, when he wasn't with his family, reading poems, sonnets, and books that he could share with her. Under his arm was a journal that he had stuffed full with notes and excerpts from the things he'd read over the summer.

With a final whistle upon reaching the top of the spiral staircase, Louis grinned at the brass sculpture hanging from the roof and looked around the barely lit Astronomy Tower. He had decided to come up at dawn instead of dusk and he sat in his usual spot, waiting for Helena to join him.

He checked his watch more frequently as the sky became lighter and Louis' nerves caught in his throat at the realisation that she might not have received his note. Peeves was a great go-between for ghosts and humans, but reliability wasn't his virtue.

"Louis?" A deep voice said from behind him. Louis turned and frowned at the sight of the Bloody Baron, a somber look haunting his eyes. "She isn't coming."

Louis needn't ask who 'she' was.

"Why not?" He tried to sound polite and civil, but given how he had come to find out about the Baron and Helena's history, it was hard not to resent the ghost.

"She's moved on, lad."

"Moved on?" Louis asked, subconsciously knowing what the ghost meant.

"She's joined her mother, did so at the start of summer."

 _That was right after I told her I loved her_ , Louis recalled. Heart caught in his throat, Louis nodded at the Baron and turned away, staring at the sunrise as hot tears trailed down his cheeks.

Of course, he was happy she had moved on, but like a selfish child, he wished that _she_ could have stayed for _him_. He had so much he wanted to ask her, so much he wanted to know about the extraordinary life she had lived; he wanted so much to have more _time_ with her.

Louis wept as the sun edged closer towards the horizon and lit up the darkness. He watched as the sky took on the hues of pink, yellow, and purple as a new day began. He didn't know if it was his tears or not, but as Louis stared at the watercolour sky, he could've sworn a flash of silver sparkled along the horizon.

The same flash of silver that he had glimpsed when he had first seen Helena.

Perhaps she was gone from this world, but he hoped desperately that they would meet one another again in the next life.

The poem had been right, only the people you love most can hurt you so deeply.

* * *

 **Author's Note**

 **WC - 2,989**

 **Written for:**

* * *

QLFC Round 8

Team: Montrose Magpies

Position: Seeker

Prompt/s: Theme - a relationship of any sort between a ghost and a human.

* * *

Hogwarts Assignment 3

House: Ravenclaw

Subject: Gardening

Task: 6, Write about secret love (whether requited or not)

* * *

Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed it!

Don't forget to leave a short (or long) review!

xoxo Andy


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